by Alone Eagle
“Little Sir has requested your presence in the hall.”
I glanced at her, surprised. Then, I glanced down at my clothes. I wore black, silk pajamas. Mrs. Messana must have seen me looking because she said, “I will bring new clothes for you. You must shower and be ready in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes? I only nodded.
Moments later, she returned with a wine-colored cotton shirt and simple, baby blue tight jeans and new undergarments. At least Vlad wasn’t planning on parading me around like his personal whore. She had already given me a set of fresh, unopened toothpaste and a toothbrush last night.
I took the clothes and stepped into the white and gold-colored bathroom. I stared, blinking at the amount of gold. The wealth and riches in the room was astonishing if it was real. I didn’t even want to step into it. The tub was luxurious and spacious with a jacuzzi.
Last night I’d had trouble sleeping, but I hadn’t showered. Now though, I let the water cascade down my back, running down my shoulders and spine. My shoulders sagged as I breathed deeply under the flow of the water.
Dark thoughts entered my mind.
What was going to happen to me?
I had handed myself over to the cruelest beast in the kingdom.
I was well-aware what he was capable of after seeing him crush Leo’s hands. He was a man willing to hurt his own men to teach them a lesson.
That meant, I was nothing in his eyes.
I was only dirt.
I quickly hopped out of the shower and towel-dried myself. I changed into the clothes and went outside.
On the vanity table, lay some makeup utensils and a comb.
I skipped the makeup and brushed out my dark, black straight hair. When it was wet, it ended at my waist. I’ve always kept my hair long, ever since I was young. In foster homes, they would try to cut it, but I would always resist.
I didn’t have any family. I was a few days old when my parents had left me. Years later, when I returned to the mosque the religious preacher had told me an Arab woman had said my name and that she couldn’t keep me. She’d been Lebanese and was likely my mother, but that was all he could tell me. I had looked for my birth parents when I was older but had met a dead end.
It saddened me that my mother hadn’t even bothered to get me adopted. She’d simply shoved me into the preacher’s arms and ran away before he could follow her.
To this day, I still didn’t know why.
I didn’t remember my parents or what they looked like.
I only knew my name.
Dahlia Hadid.
I was taken into the protection of child services. From there, I bounced from foster home to foster home until the age of eighteen. I went to college, and I was waitressing until Emilio Valentino found me. He had met me and invited me to the masquerade ball. How stupid and naïve I was. I shouldn’t have ever gone to the ball.
Now, I was part of a horror film.
I exhaled slowly and stepped outside.
The hallways were long and endless. I was certain I was going to get lost as I began walking, until one of the men found me.
It was Gabriele. I recognized him from last night. He was the driver, and the man Vlad had ordered to do a background check on me. Leo was, thankfully, nowhere in sight. Probably hiding from his don.
“This way,” Gabriele spoke.
I glanced at him curiously.
He was taller than me, but he seemed less intimidating. Maybe it was his appearance. He had typical golden boy features, not the rugged ones his leader had. It made him look gentler, but then I ended up scoffing at that thought. He caught me staring, narrowing his eyes at me, and I looked away quickly, not wanting him to get any ideas.
Don Vlad and Leo were already more than enough to deal with.
The mansion was endless with separate wings. Too complicated with its many doors. I didn’t know which one was the Don’s. My eyes followed the long, gold, and white staircase. It was stunning.
When we reached the living room, Don Vlad sat with another older man. To say a living room didn’t really do it justice though. The room was massive. Yesterday, I hadn’t really taken it in because I was too shocked by what was happening around me, but not today. Now, I took it all in.
The Don was filthy rich.
Old paintings and photographs hung around the golden walls. The couches were traditional gold and silver. Antique pieces hung around. I glanced down at my bare feet as I stood on the cold marbled floor. I hadn’t been given shoes. Maybe because they didn’t want me to run. Mrs. Messana had taken away my heels last night. I would have appreciated socks at least.
Before my eyes could meet the Don’s, they landed on the older man next to him.
If the Don was ice, this man was fire.
His gray eyes swept over me and his gaze burned me. Those were Vlad’s eyes. This man was related to him. His father. I had seen his photograph in the news too. A former Don. They were notoriously famous. He was tall like his son, and his dark, black hair had some specks of grey, showing his age. He had a scar on his neck. It was strange. Vlad, Leo, and this man all had scars. A shiver ran down my spine at the lifestyle they must live. He was extremely good-looking for a man with an adult son.
Enzo Vitalli.
The man seemed to be studying me intently in his black, shiny suit. “So, this is the new inventory?”
The man’s voice was low and commanding.
Even Vlad straightened his posture at the question.
I cast my gaze on the ground and looked elsewhere.
“Yes, Father,” Vlad replied.
“Have you decided what to do with her?”
Vlad was quiet.
“There’s always the whorehouse,” his father offered. I tried not to scoff at the words. “Or we could sell her.”
Fear hit me then, and I felt it right down to my soul. My eyes instantly jerked up. That couldn’t be my fate. I couldn’t be used and abused until nothing was left of me. I had offered myself to Vlad for his taking, but when I had, I hadn’t considered there might be other options. I thought I would his plaything, but now I wasn’t sure. Crap, I should have thought it through, but it was hard to think straight when you’d just witnessed a murder in the middle of the night. My instinct to stay alive had taken over more rational thought.
I glanced at Vlad who was staring right at me.
His hand rested on the couch’s arm rest, his fingers drumming against it, as if taunting me. I followed the movement nervously before I met his steel eyes. I tried to silently plead with him, hoping my message was heard. Don’t sell me.
“She has a pretty face. Nice body,” Vlad’s father said.
I cringed now. I didn’t want to look at that man, so I kept my gaze focused on Vlad.
“We’ll see,” Vlad said.
“I have to get going. I’ll see you around, son.”
Then, the older man rose to his commanding height. He glanced at me again, his eyes sliding over me before he walked away, leaving me alone with Vlad.
Gabriele also disappeared.
For a moment, Vlad only looked at me, without saying a word. He was a sight to look at, an intimidating one. He wore his formal clothes again, fitted and molded against his form. I was in his house, at his beck and call, living under his command. I stood in front of him like a student in front of their professor. He would expect me to buckle under the weight of his presence but he was wrong.
“Are you going to sell me?” I asked, fiddling with my hands.
A nervous habit I’d recently picked up. I never fiddled.
Vlad looked at me, amused. Then, his expression dimmed a little. I caught sight of something I hadn’t seen before.
Pity.
It disappeared just as quickly as it had come though, leaving me questioning if I’d really seen it.
“You do have a pretty face. I wish you didn’t. It catches the attention of too many.”
The hope I had in my heart was slowly dying. I wished I didn’t
have a pretty face. He might as well carve it up with a knife. I exhaled, before slowly calming down my breathing.
“But I offered myself to you…” my voice trailed off before I could continue.
Only to you.
Then, he stood up and walked slowly towards me.
His walk was predatory and powerful. I didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose, to make me afraid, but it was working. I knew he was the most powerful man around here.
“Did you think before you offered?” he asked.
Stupid girl. I bit my lip nervously. “I didn’t want to die.”
His gaze heated and it traveled to my lips. I stopped biting my lip now. His gaze made me nervous. He was silent as he stared at me. His eyes had darkened, resembling a stormy night.
“Will you do what he said?”
“I’m Don. I make my own decisions.”
Hope filled my heart again. “So, you won’t sell me?”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “I probably should. I would get good money, more than what you promised me.”
Was he being serious? His face held no smile. He was a freaking billionaire. Even if I had a hundred grand, it would be pennies to him.
The hope that was battling in my heart was withering again. It was a constant battle.
“Please don’t sell me,” I pleaded with him.
I hated begging him. It made me feel pathetic, but I would get on my knees for him if it would make him listen to me. Begging for mercy sounded better than losing my dignity the hard way. I could put aside my pride, just this once.
Vlad came closer to me until he was just a few inches away. I tilted my head up at him to meet his eyes. His amused and pitying expressions were gone. Instead, they were replaced with something else that I couldn’t define.
“Say that word again,” he ordered in a dangerously low voice.
What word? I looked at him confused.
“Beg me again.” He clarified.
I frowned at him, then glared at him this time.
He seriously gets off on women begging him?
“No,” I retorted, but then instantly regretted using such a sharp tone.
I’d disobeyed his order.
Shit.
I froze as fear overwhelmed me. I knew first-hand what happened when someone didn’t follow his rules. I pressed my lips together and tried to keep my body from shuddering, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to holding myself together. Internally, I prepared myself, anticipating the blow he was sure to land on me.
I closed my eyes.
After three seconds, I opened them again.
His amused expression was back.
Maybe he was wondering what the hell was I doing?
He wasn’t going to hit me?
Then, he leaned in, closing the gap between us. I stepped back from him, but he only moved forward and so the little chase continued until my back hit the hard wall behind me. There was no lighthearted glint in his eyes, his eyes were darker now and vastly colder. They penetrated me without touching me, refusing to let me look away from him.
Now, I had nowhere to go.
I was caged in.
I thought if he had hit me, I would maybe at least get a punch in. Then, I silently shook my head. No, he had a gun and an army of men who were willing to kill at his command. I remembered how Leo had laid out his hands in front of Vlad for his punishment.
He was dominating, not even the king of his universe, more like the God. He wasn’t beautiful in the conventional, traditional sense yet he was alluring.
Vlad leaned in, looming over me. He pressed his arms against the wall, almost pinning my arms against my sides. I tried to shove myself further into the wall, but I was trapped. My heart leapt to my throat and my blood ran hot. Then, he rested his forearms against the wall bringing him so much closer to me. He still didn’t touch me, but his fire and his heat branded my skin.
I could smell cinnamon on his breath. His cologne was cedar-like, masculine scent, yet nice. I tried not to like it, but his presence and scent was overwhelming. His smell was right underneath my nose, basically asking me to sniff him. It engulfed my senses.
I’d never seen him up-close before. His irises had specks of honey and gold in them, resembling a wolf. They almost looked blue. He was like a chameleon, changing colors right before me, creating a mystical and serene look. His longish dark hair was perfectly disheveled as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Near his eyebrows, he had a deep, visible scar. A deep, jagged, brown scar that stood out against his golden tanned skin, marking him with an imperfection that he wasn’t born with.
I prepared myself again for him to touch me, violate me.
I’d been preparing for it since I had offered myself.
Maybe if I didn’t fight back, it might hurt less. Sex with him, couldn’t be that bad right?
It might be bad though.
Leo had tried it with me too, and I had no wishes to warm his bed. I tried not to gloat that his hands were broken because he laid his hand on me. He deserved it.
I peeked up and met Vlad’s sharp eyes. His gaze seemed to be searching mine. I didn’t know what for.
“Are you going to hurt me?” I asked in a small voice.
I hated the fear in my voice.
He tilted his head to the side, smirking now.
“Are you afraid of me?”
It was kind of hard not be, in front of a mafia don.
I didn’t answer and stayed still. Hopefully, he would stop asking me.
“I’ve said it before Dahlia, I don’t like repeating myself. I should have put you down already. You’re lucky you are still alive.” His voice was stern and aloof. It was the first time he’d spoken my name out loud. I tried not to like how it came out of his mouth.
“I’m not telling you,” I replied in defiance.
I looked up and a small smirk played on his lips.
“All I asked was for you to beg me.”
“And I said no,” I whispered, my breath landing on his lips.
He became still, looking deep into my eyes. I wished he would look away. It was hypnotic. His breathing was heavier and soon we were breathing the same air.
“How hard is it to say the word, please?” he murmured.
Oh. That’s what he wanted?
“Please Vlad,” I said softly.
It was the first time I’d spoken his name.
“You’re so pretty when you beg.”
My eyes widened.
Then, something changed.
He dropped his arms and stepped away from me.
So, he wasn’t going to touch me?
The heat that was radiating from him instantly disappeared.
“Does that mean if I say please, you won’t sell me?” I asked.
I tried not to be cheerful and hopeful, but I knew how I sounded. I was desperate, and even he knew that I was clutching for straws.
Vlad’s eyes changed then.
They turned from dark to soft instantly.
He smiled at me now. He looked so different now. I didn’t know something so small and simple could change someone’s physical appearance. It was the first time I’d seen him smile. A deep dimple appeared in his right cheek, something I hadn’t noticed before. I wasn’t sure what was the point of him having a dimple if he rarely smiled. The smile made him handsome.
Too handsome for my liking. It humanized him.
He was better off as a beast.
Then, he reached out and touched my neck softly.
I blinked slowly when his warm fingers traced a pattern.
“Your marks,” he whispered glancing at them before meeting my eyes. Then, he abruptly changed the subject and said, “You should eat breakfast.”
Then, he walked away.
A third time since yesterday.
5
Chapter 5
There wasn’t just food at the breakfast table. It was lavish. I tried not to cringe at the fact that this food
could feed a family for a week. Plates of omelets, French Toast, cinnamon rolls, butter, coffee, and orange juice overwhelmed me.
I didn’t know where to sit. Was I supposed to sit next to Vlad or at the end of the table, out of his sight? The table had sixteen chairs. I didn’t see the sense in that, since the breakfast was only for two. I headed toward the back of the table until his voice stopped me.
“Sit right next to me where I can see you.”
I nodded and did as he ordered.
He sat at the head of the table.
I took my plate and began gathering an omelet and French Toast. I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask for permission to begin. I didn’t know if he was supposed to eat first than I would follow? I didn’t care right now. He didn’t seem to mind, nor did he stop me. My stomach grumbled loudly, embarrassingly loud, and it caught Vlad’s attention.
He smirked at me.
I hated his annoying smirk.
“Hungry?” he asked.
I averted my eyes and stared at my plate. I reached for the coffee, but just then his hand brushed against mine. I froze, caught off guard. It was the second time he’d touch me. I glanced up at him sharply. He had reached for the coffee too. His hand was soft against mine, and I tried not to think too much about it.
My eyes met his.
His eyes were like a cool steel, like a hungry wolf, a predator. I looked away, and I withdrew my hand. I waited for him to finish pouring his coffee first.
I slowly began to eat, forcing myself to chew in small bites, because it was hard to swallow with this huge lump in my throat.
I didn’t know what would become of me, but I didn’t want to be sent to work in a brothel nor become a sex slave. I didn’t know what was worse. Maybe sex slavery. Growing up, I was aware of people who sold themselves in brothels or on the streets for money. You could at least refuse in that setting, couldn’t you?
You could turn down a client. You would get paid. You could place limits. You could choose, but I never heard of anyone who was willing to be human trafficked.
No choice, no limits.
I didn’t think I could live with myself being a sex slave with no identity, being owned by someone, and going from one owner to another. Becoming hollowed shells of who they used to be, those victims who had lost too much. I didn’t want to lose myself like that. I wanted to be stronger, but it was getting hard to when the flesh I was in could be so cruel.